Cannabis1968
by Sixteen clumsy and shy
Summary: AU Light Yagami is an undercover reporter who goes to live in the Haight-Ashbury district of San Francisco. There he meets L, a slightly suicidal -not really- genius stoner. Living above "The Dead" spawns love, lust and the munchies...YAOI AND DRUG USE
1. Go or go ahead

_Cannabis --1968_

_A/N: Hello all! I'm writing this on a whim, so forgive me if it sucks. _

_**I don't own Death Note, only the plot and the computer I type this on. **_

_**--**_

1968, a time when the drug culture was at its peek, and riots foretold of the chaos that was to come the rest of the following century and those after it.

My hands were stuffed deep into the pockets of an old, beaten up smokers jacket as I stepped off of the large Grey-Hound bus. A sigh escaped me as my legs started to move on their own. People moved around me, every person of different shades of coffee: from the darkest chocolate to the palest cream. San Francisco in all its glory.

My pack of things rested heavily on my back: a grey-black typewriter, a month's worth of clothing, and money would be all I needed. San Francisco's Haight-Ashbury district was my destination; my boss' words still ringing in my head.

"_Yagami," Charles Madison, a forty something with a drinking problem yelled from his office doorway, pronouncing my last name incorrectly. I looked up from my typewriter before shuffling to his smoky office. I coughed once. _

"_Yes sir?" I asked, standing with my hands neatly folded in front of me. Charles threw me a bus pass. My hands fiddled with the small slip of paper before I looked up at my boss whom was busy lighting a cigarette. _

_He glanced over at me, and then sighed, smoke tumbling out of his mouth. "I want you to go to San Francisco and research on those…people…who live there." Obviously, Charles wasn't happy with the way the counterculture had been taken on as 'normal' with the American populace. _

_I looked down at the red and white bus pass that lay in my palm. Mentally sighing, I stood and walked out of the office. _

I stopped suddenly, standing in front of a street sign that read 'Haight-Ashbury'. A large grin overtook my face as my hand tightened around the straps of my bag.

"There's a bathroom downstairs if you need to use it." I walked behind a stocky, and hairy man, my eyes taking mental notes of 710 Ashbury. "The guy you're gonna board with is kinda…nuts, but he's a good guy." The man shrugged, as if it were a normal thing for someone to be 'nuts', and lead me up a narrow staircase. Other people hobbled down past us, carrying banjos, a few drums and a steel guitar. I raised an eyebrow.

The man, who's name I later learned was Jerry Garcia lived in the apartment below my shared one. He said that he and his friends had stared something of a band called 'The Grateful Dead'; today, I'm still a fan. "Yeah…the guy says his name is just the letter 'L'; I wouldn't piss him off, just in case." We stopped in front of a large white, Victorian looking door. Jerry sighed and pounded lightly on the wood. We heard a loud thump, then a hastily whispered curse; it sounded almost like someone was wading through large sheets of plastic wrap. I gulped thinking, _Oh god…what have I gotten myself into?_

The door opened a crack so that only a large black, owlish eye peeked through. It zoomed from Jerry to me, and I could see a black eyebrow raise. Jerry coughed and then smiled brightly at the paranoid freak. "Hey man, this guy…" Jerry raised a bushy eyebrow at me, indicating that he didn't know my name.

"Light." I said, still staring.

"Light. He needs a place to crash, and you're the only one available that I could think of…" The person inside sighed and pulled open the door widely so that we could see inside.

The room was large, and at one time clean. Papers hung from the walls and notes had taken--it seemed--with purple crayon, trailing off the paper and onto the walls. A large crumpled up plastic sheet lay strewn over the green carpeted floor. A small, compact couch was pushed out of the way over by the set of three window seats. There were pieces of half eaten cake on the green upholstery.

Jerry chuckled, his be speckled eyes swiping across the room as mine had. "L…don't you know that this is kinda…dirty?"

The strange slob raised a black eyebrow, as if the question was ridicules. "No." His voice was a low monotone. I took a glance at my new 'roommate'.

I could see that he was skinny, and his back was slightly hunched. Raven coloured hair stood out in all directions on his head; a creamy white face with a delicate nose and pale pink lips. His eyes though were like pits, black and seemingly endless. The strange man wore dark denim jeans, frayed at the heels from constant use, and a stripped black and green sweater with a white button up shirt underneath. I saw that he was bare foot.

Jerry had left us with a mumble of when the rent was due, and left me standing in the hallway, looking like an utter boob. My unfriendly roommate stood in the doorway, staring at me like I had a growth spurt from my forehead.

He turned away, shuffling into the room and began to rummage through one of the endless boxes (as I saw upon further inspection) that lined the opposite wall from the door. "I have to get paper," He muttered to--I thought--to me, pulling on a large wool lumberjack looking hat over his head. "Do not touch _anything. _Oh…" he turned his endless black eyes onto me. There was a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Welcome to San Francisco, Light."

--

--

_Geh! So, tell me what you think. This is my first Death Note fan fiction, so I don't know if I kept them in character! Yeah, they live above Jerry Garcia (how rad would that have been?!) This fic was inspired by Rufus Wainwright's song "Go or Go ahead". It's an amazing song. _

_Again, tell me what you think ('cause I'm a review whore, okay? --laughs--)_


	2. Reefer Madness

_Cannabis --1968_

_AN: Hello again! Chapter two of Cannabis1968, hope you all enjoy this. _

_**I don't own Death Note. **_

_**--**_

It was a rainy Sunday afternoon, almost three days after I had arrived in San Francisco's Haight-Ashbury district. My days had already been set in an organized rhythm of waking up and writing. I avoided L as much as I could, going out only when I heard the door to his room slam shut.

Normally when I did venture out of the dirty apartment, I watched Jerry and his friends joke around and play their music. Whenever they shooed me out of the sizable dining room/equipment area, I went outside for my research.

People trotted past me, laughing loudly at jokes only they heard. Children played with each other on the large grassy hill in the middle of the Haight-Ashbury that had been christened 'Hippie Hill'. On my strolls through the district, I would often see people who's acid trips had went bad. I had seen many types of hard drugs take hold of the people around me; at this, my notes grew larger.

That rainy Sunday though, I had stayed in my room, staring at a blank piece of paper that lay on my lap. I heard L tinkering on something that only he knew what the outcome would be; (It was something that had to do with a plastic sheet). His work station was always centered in the living room, so that if I wished, I would be able to watch him. I heard the distinct scraping of a purple crayon writing on the wall.

From time to time, smoke from a joint being lit seeped into my bedroom. I knew little about marijuana, and like most of the children that I had grown up with, it was considered a 'gateway drug' into the harder stuff such as heroin and cocaine. But, the smell of the expensive Indian cannabis filled my nose, making it vaguely thrilling and exotic.

I gingerly slid off my small spring mattress and crept over to the slightly ajar bedroom door. I was on my hands and knees as I peeked through the doorway. L sat (or crouched rather) on the green couch; a joint was between his lips and a pen was between two fingers. It looked as if he were writing something on his out-stretched left hand. Smoke tumbled from his nose, a trick that I found oddly appealing.

The door swung open with a loud squeak which caused L to quickly look up from his hand. His black eyes bore into my own as he took the joint from between his lips. "Yes Light; may I help you?" The mad man placed his hands on top of his knees, and rested his chin on the sharp knuckles.

I picked myself off the green carpet and stood at my door with an awkward grin decorating my face. "Er…sorry L, I slipped and fell--"

"I saw you watching me, Light." L remarked, his voice baring no signs of anger or annoyance. I knew that I need to tread carefully unless I wanted to risk pissing off my strange roommate.

"I was…uh…" L motioned for me to sit next to him on the couch. His black eyes watched me the whole time as I plopped gracefully on the green cushions.

"Light…are you offended because I smoke?" My gaze snapped to his own wide eyed one. I wondered if he would ignore me more than I had if I asked him why he did he smoke? I decided to tell him the truth.

"No! Not at all; but…L, if you don't mind me asking…why do you smoke?" I had been raised on movies such as 'Reefer Madness', and it surprised me slightly that someone would be so comfortable to do it in front of an other person. My eyes widened slightly as a small smile quirked the edges of L's lips.

"I do so because I find it enjoyable." He cocked his head to the left, and almost innocent look coming to his pale features. "Light, are you afraid that I'll place a baby in the oven?"

The unexpected (and morbid) joke caused me to snort, and then break out into loud laughter. L's expression became one of almost amusement, and he continued to finish off the half spent joint.

That day, I found out that L had almost a half kilo of marijuana stashed in a ceramic cookie jar in the apartment's tiny kitchen. "You may use this whenever you feel that it's necessary." L eyed me, noticing my slight worry of using something that everyone I had ever known pounded that thought process in my head that it was _wrong_. A small smile from my roommate comforted me into nodding.

On a rainy Sunday afternoon over strawberry cake and coffee, L and I had grown to be something of friends.

-

-

_Crappy ending? Please review! _

_L would seem like the one to smoke pot to 'turn on, tune in and drop out' and not LSD. But hey, that's just my opinion._


	3. SUPA DISCLAIMER TIME

_**SUPA DISCLAIMER TIME!**_

_Hi all, sorry but this isn't an update, just a super disclaimer . I made a reference to le KING's story "Devil's Trill", and I'm terribly sorry that I didn't put a disclaimer to state that fact. _

"_--purple crayon that had trailed off the paper and onto the walls", that was HER line. I don't own that! Again, le KING, I'm very sorry and I hope that you aren't offended any longer._

_Also, I don't own Death Note, I'm not going to put this up again at the beginning of the chapter. _


	4. Cigarettes and chocolate milk

_Cannabis--1968 _

_AN: Hello all, I thank you for all the reviews that you've given me! This will the last chapter until July because I'm going to Sioux City, Iowa for July 4__th__. --laughs-- If any of you are gonna be out there for Saturday in the Park, maybe I'll see you! (doubt it)_

_Anyway, on with the show. _

_**I don't own anything **_

_--_

It had been like any other day: get up, eat, write, walk, argue or talk with L, write even more.

My three week stay in the Haight-Ashbury was becoming almost as boring as my day-to-day life in my home city of St. Louis. L almost constantly watched the news about Vietnam, occasionally exclaiming that the American government was murdering their men and the Vietnamese people. I didn't ask, but I knew the reason he was using the alias_ 'L' _was because he was hiding from the recruiting agents.

I sat beside him on the couch, staring at his expressionless face. The occasional twitch of his left eye was the only indication of L's building anger. His dark eyes were like mirrors as they reflected an upside-down version of the television screen. I placed a hand on his shoulder; he jumped slightly, and turned to me. I gave him a small smile, "If it angers you so much, L, stop watching it."

L sighed and leaned back on the couch; a long fingered hand went through his black hair.

"I know watching something that angers me isn't very smart…" His emotionless eyes returned to the flashing screen; a commercial for juice exploded on the black and white screen. That was all we could afford.

I stood and flicked off the box. Turning to him, I shook my head. "L, stop being an idiot and angering yourself." I shrugged, "Do something productive."

After that, the day settled into a rhythm of L tinkering away on whatever mind-blowing invention he had started. I sat Indian-style on the green couch, watching L's movements lazily.

A small smile settled on the corners of my mouth as I watched the (I assumed) genius talk quietly to himself, lifting a thumb to his mouth in an effort to think. _Cute,_ I thought, then froze. _I didn't really think tha--…No!_ I shook my head, causing L to look curiously at me. I flashed him a smile; he shrugged and went back to work.

_You didn't think that_, I assured myself, _Think about something else…_

"I am getting quite uncomfortable with Light watching me." I jumped at the sound of L's quiet, monotone voice. He stared at me from the green floor, his dark eyes wide and uncomfortable.

I laughed awkwardly, playing the surprised-denial card. "L, I wasn't staring at you." I snorted almost if the notion was absurd.

L turned back to his plastic wrap; it crinkled loudly as he fiddled with it, "Yes you were…" He murmured lowly.

I rolled my eyes and stood from the couch, feeling a surge of anger. "Whatever, L." My door slammed shut and I dove onto the springy mattress with a sigh.

Placing a hand over my closed eyes, a scowl appeared on my face. Why did I feel so embarrassed when L had caught me staring at him?

_Because you thought he was 'cute'. People shouldn't think that!_ My mind yelled at me, scoffing lightly at the obviousness of the statement.

_Well L can't read minds, so I doubt he 'heard' what I had thought._ I nodded to myself under my hand. What I had to do was apologize to L for snapping at him and leave the awkwardness behind. That I could do.

The door to my bed room squeaked open, much as it did when I had first really 'talked' to L. I walked out of the small bed-room, my eyebrows furrowed slightly when I was greeted by an empty living room.

"L?" My voice sounded small through-out the apartment. A wave of something like panic shot through my spine as I checked quickly in the strange man's messy room.

I walked back to the middle of the living room; my heart pounded inside my head like a throbbing drum. I began to question my panic.

I plopped down on the green couch, and jumped when paper crinkled loudly in protest.

I jumped up and snatched the offending cream colored paper; L's messy hand writing was scrawled across the face.

_**Light--**_

_**Thank you.**_

_**L**_

Another wave of cold panic swept down my spine.

Oh god…was he going to--?! I couldn't let myself to finish the thought. A flash of a news article popped into my mind about a student at Harvard who had committed suicide and had left his roommate a note, confessing his feelings to the roommate; but the words 'thank you' repeated over and over in my mind in L's low monotone voice. What did he mean?

I had ran out of 710 Ashbury, hastily pulling on my smokers jacket. Jerry's apartment was silent which indicated no one was home.

My bare feet slapped loudly on the on the cement; a few of the 'night-dwellers' stared after me.

I saw a lone figure standing under the tree, almost as if contemplating that it would be almost perfect to hand one's self on… I saw the person throw a rope over one of the branches, griping the rope tightly in one hand. "L!" I cried out, racing to the tree with all the force I had in my body. _Oh god! Nonononono!_

I stopped in front of him, sweat and tears running down my face. L stared down at me, his black eyes unblinking. "Light?" He asked slowly.

My face snapped up to meet his gaze. "L! Don't do it! It isn't--What the hell!?"

Twislers were gripped tightly in one of L's long fingered hands; the rest was tied 'noose-style' around his pale, swan-like neck. A neck which I so wanted to snap at that moment.

"L…" I seethed, tightening my hands together into a fist, "Do you honestly think you'll be able to kill yourself…with _twislers_?!"

L blinked slowly at me, then looked up at the line of twislers that wrapped around the branch. "…Well the way you say it, it does sound like a pretty stupid idea."

I stomped up to him, the panic I had felt had washed away, and took the twisler that was around his neck and swiftly bit through the red 'noose'. I pushed back the mental gasp and thought of _your lips just touched his neck!_

"Why?" I asked from around a mouthful of the plastic tasting candy. A red mark was starting to form on his pale neck.

L took a bite of his 'noose' and sat on the ground. "My intelligence got too great." I sat beside him, leaning against the tree. He chewed the red rope slowly, "This happens every once and awhile; I buy a rope of twislers and if I don't have the time or effort, my plans of suicide…stop; for that moment anyway."

We sat in silence for a few minuets, eating the red rope that would've (not really) killed L.

I turned my gaze lazily over to him. "You never told me what you're working on," He paused from taking a bite of his candy. I sighed. "All the plastic wrap?"

A ghost of a smile came to the elusive hippie's lips. "You never asked Light, but it is something that concerns only myself."

I grumbled, rolled my eyes and remained silent.

Minuets passed again before L sighed. "…There is another reason why I thought of killing myself, Light."

I turned to ask 'what', but sputtered with surprise as his lips ghosted over my own in a weak kiss. _Softer than I had expected_.

A soft red blush powdered his cheeks, but L smirked and settled down again beside me. "I was afraid to know what your reaction would be…"

-

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_A kiss! --laughs-- The twisler idea is from the movie "Juno". I do so like that movie. _

_Reviews are a girl's best friend!_


	5. War Pigs

_Cannabis--1968 _

_AN: I lied! Though I'll still be going to Iowa, I HAD to write another chapter! Hee._

_A BIG thanks to all that reviewed! This chapter is dedicated to you; (you know who you are!) And must I say, this was extremely hard to write! It's the angst…_

_**Nope. I don't own anything.**_

-

After L had kissed me, we began to avoid each other's company like the plague. L had begun to stay with Jerry, only coming home whenever he was sure I had gone to sleep.

I mostly stayed in my bedroom; my notes on the counterculture life-style had fallen at a stand-still, the pages in my note books becoming subjects to horrendous doodling. I constantly obsessed over the slight brushing (because that was all it really was) of L's lips and my own.

I placed my finger-tips to my lips, a soft glow of red spreading over my cheeks. _So much softer than I had expected._

Whenever we did cross paths in the apartment, my gaze would lock with L's, an awkward silence would follow.

_Is he ashamed_ I thought, shuffling back into my room. I knew the answer was no; L wouldn't have been ashamed for what he had done. _Maybe he thinks that you're disgusted?_ The rational side of my mind asked.

I stretched out over the springy mattress, placing my arms behind my head. A loud yawn tore out of my mouth. I was thinking too much about this. What did I think about L?

_Cute_ was the word I had associated with L before, that I had admitted; But what did I really think about the elusive hippie?

I thought that he was an…interesting person to converse with. We had debated over many topics during my stay. He was passionate about certain things, lenient about others. _I find him attractive. _The thought startled me slightly.

How could a man find another man attractive!? Homosexuality was considered insane, and I knew that I wasn't mentally unstable.

…Right?

I sat up quickly on the mattress, my hands on either side of my lap. A loud groan bubbled up out of my throat. What did I feel?!

_How could I be attracted to L?_ My mind screamed, _He isn't all that handsome!_

I stood from my bed, pacing and running at hand through my auburn colored hair. My mind raced, and the only conclusion I really could come up with was: the panic I had felt for L's well being was that I didn't want him to get hurt. Therefore, I _cared_ somewhat for him.

I approached the door and almost tore it open. I was confused and seething. L sat on the couch, his back to my door. It was obvious that he had heard me pull open the door, his usually lax shoulders were tense.

I strode over to him and turned him to face me. His eyes became abnormally wide as my lips crashed upon his own. I had to sort this through! I had to assure myself that I didn't care for him!

I didn't hide the growl of confused anger that bubbled up from my throat. L began to shyly kiss me back, which caused me to loose my footing on the green carpet and fall on top of him. I ignored the shiver that ran down my spine and swept my tongue across his bottom lip, probing the muscle through the pale pink skin.

Then it dawned on me. I wasn't doing this to assure myself that I felt nothing; I was doing this because I wanted to.

Our tongues swept across each other, causing me to shiver and position myself on top of L's waist.

L was the one to pull back; a trail of saliva ran form his bottom lip to my mouth. A dark red blush stained his otherwise pigment-less cheeks. "Maybe we should stop."

I swallowed some saliva, and licked my lips. _Mm…strawberries. _"Don't you want this?" I asked, my eyes meeting his.

A frown came to L's lips, and he turned his eyes away from mine. "It's not that I don't…want it." His voice had dropped to a mumble, and his eyes met my own again. "Who do you work for, Light? What news paper, or news station?"

The question floored me. I felt my insides constrict with surprise. "H-how do you know that?" No one was supposed to know that they had a silent creeper amongst them. _That,_ I had decided on the bus ride, _Would just anger and outrage the people._ It seemed that I was right.

L raised an eyebrow, telling me that he had found my notes. "You had no right--" I whispered.

"You were taking notes on people like we were animals." L pushed me off of his lap, standing up and looking ready to yell. It reminded me of when he would watch news stories on Vietnam. "I had every right."

I stared up at L from the floor, my eyes wide. Anger began to brew in the pit of my stomach. "You don't understand, L!" I shouted.

L had turned away from me, and had walked to the apartment door. He had opened it, and was prepared to leave, but had turned to me instead. Black eyes swam with anger and hurt. "Oh I understand perfectly, Light." His pale fingers gripped the brass door knob, "And by all means, keep sucking the government's dick." He left, the door slamming shut with and echoing bang.

That night, I had cried for the first time in years.

-

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_The angst, it's crushing me! Gah, L is not a happy camper. _

_Why is he angry? What is Light's feelings for L? Why am I asking you this?! _

_Review! _


	6. Citizens of Tomorrow

_Cannabis--1968 _

_AN: I'm kinda bummed because my trip to Sioux City was postponed until August. Oh well. _

_Also, explaining why L was so pissed off with Light (sigh--it's not going to be explained in the fic..heh..) Light lied to everyone, and took notes on people like they were animals just waiting to exposed to the American populace. Also, Light will eventually have to lead a very normal life with taxes funding the war L so despises._

_Okay, I'll stop blabbing. _

_**I own nothing**_

_-_

"_And by all mean, keep continuing to suck the government's dick". _His words had cut like a knife.

I felt the tears leak out of my eyes, and I hastily wiped them away. L still hadn't returned to the apartment, which left my mind in a mass pile of goo.

Would he finally kill himself? I kept thinking, not moving from the floor where I had been dumped. _L had started this! _I blamed silently, curling up into my body like a roach. I knew that to be to untrue, that it wasn't anyone's fault.

_Except for your's, _Damn rational thinking. _If you had just opposed Charles' demand to come here, this would have never happened! _

Again, I knew that wouldn't have worked; Charles Madison would've fired me on the spot if given the opportunity. He was a WWII vet who held a grudge against the Japanese people (or any minority.)

I thought about leaving 710 Ashbury all together; just packing up my things and leaving. I still had enough money to get me to Salt Lake City, and then I could just hitch-hike to St. Louis.

Again, my plan was shot down. What if L really did get hurt? What if he came back to 710 blazing mad on cocaine or heroine?

I knew that I wouldn't run away, so I stayed curled up on the floor.

A few hours passed before I was startled awake by a hand taping (actually poking) my forehead. My eyes flew open, expecting to meet owlish eyes, but slight disappointment filled me as I stared into Jerry's be speckled eyes.

"Jerry?" I asked, my voice slightly cracking from misuse.

Jerry heaved a sigh of relief, sitting back on the floor. "Thank god you're not dead." He murmured, scratching the tip of his nose.

I shot up from the floor, grabbing hold of one of Jerry's large hands; my thought process returned to my roommate. "Jerry! We have to find him! He could be dead, or dying, or-or!" Jerry just stared at me like I was a loon, a fuzzy eyebrow was raised in question.

I let go of his hand and pointed toward the door. "L! We had a fight, and he ran out of the apartment. He's suicidal, did you know he's suicidal Jerry! That's why we need to--"

"Whoa! Calm down Light!" Jerry stood from the floor, placing two hands on my shoulders. I realized that I was shaking. Jerry cleared his throat, "L's just sleeping down stairs. Sometimes he just…crashes; ya know, insomnia?" I did realize that L rarely slept; when I would get up to use the restroom downstairs and it was five in the morning, L would be writing something on his hand or the wall.

I nodded; Jerry continued, "I fond him slumped on the stairs, so I took him to my place. He explained to me briefly what your fight was about."

I looked down at the green carpet and fiddled with the edge of my shirt. "Jerry…I'm sorry…?" I hated sounding so meek.

Jerry shrugged and stretched with his arms over his head. "Whatever man, ya got to do something to eat."

We sat on the floor, our backs leaning against the couch. Jerry had gotten out a glass pipe, the color deep purple, and had filled it with pot. The second it began burning, I said, "Jerry…can I…?" I gestured toward the pipe with one hand and held my head with the other.

Jerry took a hit, nodded and blew the grey smoke toward the door. I took a small hit, ignoring how the smoke burned the lining of my lungs. I liked how my muscles relaxed, and I sighed how euphoric I felt.

Jerry let me have a few more hits before he put away the pipe. We sat in silence, the light growing steadily dimmer with each passing moment.

"…do you love him?" Jerry asked suddenly, his profile becoming a dark silhouette.

The heady scent of pot wafted around us; I nodded slightly. "Yeah…at least I think so." It felt weird, and slightly freeing to actually say it out loud. Jerry only replied with a softly hummed 'hm'.

Five or ten minutes passed, and I turned to the hippie. With a slightly clouded gaze, I scrutinized that Jerry was like the father that I had never really known; which was odd because he only looked a few years older than myself.

My real father had fled Japan after the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki with my mother. I was born two years after that. He was a bitter man, but I guess that was understandable considering what he had gone through…

A week and two days I would leave the Haight-Ashbury. My eyes widened and a small gasp left my throat. I hopped up from the floor, causing Jerry to look at me again. "I have to see L!" I shouted, waving my arms wildly.

A fuzzy eyebrow rose, "Do you really want to? He seemed kinda pissed off when I woke him up."

I nodded and scurried to the door. I rode the high, and burst through Jerry's apartment door. A dark skinned man looked up from a piece of paper that was lain on a large dining room table, an eyebrow raised; though he didn't seemed to stressed about it, it seemed that he had seen things like what I had done dozens of times. I ignored him, and let my eyes land on Jerry's couch.

L was cuddled up in a cocoon of blankets, his wide eyes closed. I stumbled over to him and placed the pad of my middle finger on his pale cheek. His black eyes fluttered open and landed instantly onto me.

"Light?" L's voice was husky from fatigue; the bottom portion of his face was covered, but I could tell he had something of a frown on his face. "You look like hell."

Thankfully it wasn't the greeting I had expected; I more so imagined sharp knuckles making contact with the bridge of my nose.

I looked stupidly down at my attire. A dark grey tee-shirt and rumpled jeans with frayed knees. I grinned, showing L that I didn't care.

L sat up from the cocoon of blankets, and stretched his long arms over his head. I saw he had changed out of the stripped green and black sweater and remained in the white button down shirt beneath.

I couldn't help myself; I hugged him tightly, earning a small squeak of surprise to come out of my 'victim'.

"L-Light! What the hell are you--"

"I' sorry L." I looked up from the crook of L's neck. His dark eyes looked slightly troubled. "I'm sorry that you found my…notes. I'm sorry that I'm a fucking moron." I felt like kissing him. So I did. "God, L…I think I fucking _love you_."

L's wide eyes bore into my own, and I could see the beginnings of a grin twitch at the corners of his pale-pink lips.

All we got was a soft "Aww" from the man who sat at the dining room table.

-

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_I love that guy. He's my favorite--laughs--_

_So Light FINALLY admits to L that he (and I quote) "Fucking loves him" --laughs again at my witlessness-- _

_Please review!_


	7. Of Angels and Angles

_Cannabis--1968 _

_AN: Hello my lovelies! This chapter was very hard to write because of the whole first person thing splashing into the LEMON!scene; so yeeaahh, forgive me if the lemon sucks eggs like a whore. I've only ever written ONE good yaoi lemon ever and that's in a different fandom. _

_ALSO! In my spare time (other than writing this; it's extremely fun) I've been doing a fan-comic for ze Light/L thing that I haven't posted yet, but today I will. Please visit my homepage to see it! It's going to be under the title of "Pen Comic". Shameless pimping over! _

_**I don't own anything**_

_--_

Jerry had let us stay for a few hours after I had told L that I loved him. Maybe it was because I had fell asleep holding onto L by the waist.

When I woke up, he hand Jerry were playing 'go fish' with the deck of cards resting on top of my head. L lifted the cards off of my head with two fingers; he smiled slightly. "Good you're awake. My legs fell asleep hours ago." I noticed the flowery smell of incense hovering in the air.

I lifted myself up off of L's legs and stretched my back, wincing slightly at the loud series of cracks that followed. L had gotten up from the couch, pulled on his sweater and bid Jerry and the others in the apartment good night.

Jerry showed us the door, and grinned secretly at L. "Night guys…" The door clicked shut.

We began to walk up the narrow staircase, and L turned to me. His black eyes were unreadable. "Did you mean what you said, Light?"

I felt a sudden blush cover my cheeks, but I nodded. Did he really think that I would say something like that and NOT mean it? L stared at me a few seconds; his gaze was probing, as if he were trying to discern what I had said was the truth. Something flashed across his onyx orbs before he nodded to himself, and walked up the stairs.

My hand twitched at my side before I grabbed his pale hand and pulled him close to me. "What? No 'I love you too, Light'?" His expression remained blank, but I could see the tell-tale flush begin to powder L's cheeks.

"Light…this is becoming awkward." L muttered, turning his face almost as if to bury it in my chest. I leaned down and nuzzled my nose against his cheek.

"You were the one who kissed me first, L." I trailed my lips across his face to his own.

L's eyes snapped up to meet mine, "I know that."

"So why don't you now?" Our mouths were touching as I whispered this against L's lips.

L pressed his mouth softly against my own, earning a delighted sigh from me. At least I knew he wouldn't deny that he _had_ sparked something inside of me.

I earned soft butterfly kisses from him, but I knew it had to stop before I did something regretful. "L…" I said. He lifted his black eyes to mine. "I suggest you stop me." I felt my insides quake with something I could only think of as lust. I didn't want to scare him into hating me. L raised a dark eyebrow.

"Why would I want you to stop? Maybe I want this as much as you do."

-

We had barely made it to the apartment, our hands and lips too busy discovering things about one another to really stop and open the white Victorian door.

I slammed the door shut with my foot, ignoring the loud crash of something in one of L's boxes.

I pushed L onto the couch, tearing away from our kiss to admire my 'handy-work'.

L's black eyes were half-lidded, and a dark blush covered his pale face. His bottom lip was swollen slightly from the forceful kisses I had given him. I straddled his waist and loomed over him, my hands on either side of his head.

The apartment was dark, the only light came from the open window. L looked up at me, his tongue darting out to wet his bruised lips. "m-may I ask you a question, Light?" He asked softly. I dipped my head to the crook of his neck, rumbling out a low 'hm?'

I inhaled slightly, enjoying the smell of pot and strawberry cake.

I heard L suck in a sharp breath of air. "Have you…ever been with a man before?" I lifted my face to his and kissed him softly.

"No, have you?" I stared into his pit-like eyes, seeing a small flurry of emotions swim around in their depths.

"…I've never slept with anyone before." L raised an eyebrow. "I never saw the need."

I let my hand skim down L's side, lightly rubbing circles on the clothed flesh. I felt him shiver; a smirk curled onto my lips. "You're going to see why people are so sex crazed, L." I murmured huskily into his ear. I let my tongue skim the outer shell of his ear. A small moan bubbled up from L's throat, which made me want to make even more noises of pleasure to escape his lovely mouth.

I had girlfriends before; most of them were ditzy idiots who would have been more than happy to give up their virginity to a handsome boy. Their bodies were soft and made of curves, whilst L was sharp angles and lines. I found I liked the latter much more.

I ran my mouth across the pale flesh of L's neck, feeling pulse flutter like a bird's. I kissed the throbbing artery, causing it to jump slightly.

I pushed the layers of shirts off his body and there them carelessly to the floor. My fingers ghosted over the pale plane of his stomach; I looked up to his face. "No fair," L said, his eyes half lidded, "Why are you undressing me when you're still fully clothed?"

I chuckled and kissed him softly. "Then undress me."

His spidery fingers scuttled underneath my grey tee shirt, caressing slightly the soft patch of dark auburn hair that ran across my stomach. His fingers inched up my torso, over one of my erect nipples, causing a hiss/groan to leak out of my mouth.

I felt myself strain against my jeans, making it almost uncomfortable to move. L threw my tee shirt roughly in the same direction I had thrown his shirts, and ran the pads of his soft fingertips down my chest. A low moan rumbled out of my throat; his fingers rested on the button of my jeans, pausing momentarily. "Go on," I purred.

L looked up at me, a slightly mischievous glint in his black gaze, and slid three fingers down the front of my pants. His fingers skimmed the beginning of the shaft, causing me to gasp at the light touch. His hand ventured lower until those long fingers wrapped around my member.

I groaned loudly as he began to rub small, teasing circles around the shaft and on the tip of the head. "I-I thought y…you've never done b-b-before!" I gasped, bucking my hips slightly forward.

I didn't want to come before L had a taste of what I wanted. L smiled dazedly, "I never said that I haven't…touched myself before." I moaned. He was just too damn _good_.

I stopped his hand by pulling it out of my pants and pinning his arms above his head. L squirmed slightly, our hips grinding together; I could feel L's want pressing against my inner thigh. I smirked slightly and forcefully kissed the strange hippie.

L's tongue became bolder as we kissed; tracing my teeth and lips as if committing them to memory. His body shaking, and I could feel mine shaking as well.

My lips descended down his neck, nipping and sucking various places. I ran my hot tongue slowly over and down his chest; me teeth captured one of his pink nipples. I rolled the nub between my teeth, causing small pants and mewls to escape my roommate's lips.

I began to kiss L's white stomach; my tongue traced the outside of his navel, and I noticed he had a light freckle inside of it.

I undid L's pants and threw them aside. They were in the way.

"No underwear?" I asked, a silent chuckled apparent in voice.

A scarlet blush covered L's cheeks. "It's so much more cost effective not to buy underwear."

I laughed loudly and felt a wave of warmth roll down my spine. I ran my fingers down his shaft. "God I love you." murmured as L bucked into my hand. He undid my pants and I slid out of the constricting fabric.

Our limbs were intertwined as I slid in and out of him; my head swam as L's gasps and moans meshed with my own. My shoulder's quaked, and I felt tears pool at the corners of my eyes.

I felt him release into my hand, and felt my own climax building at the base of my spine. I shuddered with release, and moaned lowly. L's lips twitched beside my ear.

"I love you, Light." He whispered. I could feel the drying tears on his cheeks.

Our days were spent in the blur of sameness, and our nights were spent in each other's arms.

The last night I was to spend in San Francisco, L and I sat on the green couch like we had been doing the past week. "I want to give you something." L said, placing the spent joint we had been sharing in a clay bowl we used for an ash tray. He bent over the arm of the couch and began to rummage through a box that sat beside the couch.

I watched in silence as his pale fingers flipped through various papers kept in files until they stopped and wrapped around a thick manila envelope. "Don't open this until you reach your home." L looked into my eyes until I nodded and took the heavy envelope. I placed it in between the couch's cushions so I'd remember.

I didn't.

We stood at Sand Francisco's bus station; L stood by my side like a devoted wife seeing her husband off to war (maybe that wasn't the best way to put it.)

He stood in his normal crouch, hands in pockets and stared at the grey cement. His lumberjack hat was askew.

My hand tightened around the strap of my bag, much as it did when I had first arrived in San Francisco. I turned to L and noticed crystal-like tears forming at the corners of his dark eyes.

I wiped them away and leaned down for one last kiss. I hugged him tightly, pulling apart and I rested my forehead against his. "I want to see you again, L." I said, my voice becoming slightly forced as I tried not to cry.

The bus to St. Louis pulled up with a sigh, causing our bodily contact to sever. L let a small, sad smile come to his lips and waved as I climbed onto the hulking monster. I watched as he became a small green, black, white, and brown dot in the distance.

My mind kept yelling at me to go back to him, but I knew I couldn't.

Almost a day later, the bus pulled into St. Louis, and I saw my family of three sitting on one of the metallic benches.

Sayu jumped up and down as she greeted me, a large grin on her youthful face. When she hugged me though, a slight grimace came to her pretty features. "Ew Light! You stink!"

My eyebrows furrowed, and I lifted the sleeve of my smoker's jacket to my nose and breathed in deeply. A large, silly grin broke out over my face. Expensive Indian pot and strawberry cake.

-

-

_Why Light!? Why'd you have to go!? This isn't the last chapter, but the next one will be. I already have it written out in my note book, but I still have to re-read it and change some stuff around. _

_PLEASE REVIEW! This also helps me update --bribery!-_


	8. We Both Go Down togetherEnd

Cannabis--1968

_AN: God, I've been so tired lately; also I feel like I'm gonna puke when ever I try to eat something. Hopefully, I'm not sick. _

_Anyway, the last chapter of Cannabis. It's dedicated to everyone who has read the story, reviewed, faved, and put it on alert. I'm still debating whether or not to post another Deathnote fanfic, but we'll have to see. _

**I own nothing. There is a snippet from Martin Booth's book "Cannabis A history". I don't own that at all either. **

_-_

_--1993--_

The bus rumbled lowly under my feet; it was almost the same feeling of unsuspecting exhilaration that welled inside my gut as I clenched my hands together in tight fists on top of my lap.

The scene outside was almost the same blurred landscape as it was twenty-five years ago, except that more fast-food restaurants had popped up over the years.

The day changed to night; I barely got any sleep because of the excited chatter of a young couple behind me.

I knew L wouldn't be there. I had read something in the newspaper about a scientist whom had published something about the effects that marijuana had on people, via self-testing, but I doubted that it was L. The scientist's name was L Lawliet, what a strange name…

Even though I doubted that this "L Lawliet" was _my_ L, the name had made an imprint on my mind, and my heart screamed that I needed to return to San Francisco.

In 1987, Jerry had sent me a picture of L tinkering away on something with a white haired child. A small smile was on the hippie's face, and the child was glaring slightly at him. One the back it read _**St. Louis--1987.**_ I had moved to New York the year before after 'coming out' to my mother and father; my mother had sent the picture to me.

I took out the picture from my wallet, smiling slightly and touching the glossy black and white surface. "Whoa!" A loud voice boomed beside my ear. I turned and glared at the owner of the annoying voice.

One of the young teenagers had glanced over the top of the chairs and was staring at the small photo I still held in my hand. The boy had short black hair and dark brown eyes that remained transfixed on the picture. "Yes?" I asked lowly, my voice dripping with annoyance, "May I _help_ you?"

The boy's brown eyes lifted to meet my own. An awkward smile lifted his lips. "Er…sorry dude! Um…I just couldn't help but to look at your picture of that guy." An arm lifted from the seat behind me, and a short finger pointed at the paper. "But…you do know who that guy is, right?"

I blinked slowly, "An old…friend. How do you know about him?"

The boy's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and his head turned quickly to the female that sat beside him. "Kim, hey, Kim! This guy _knew _L Lawliet!" A stocky red headed female shot up beside the boy, her mouth forming a perfect 'o'.

"No way, really?!" She turned her blue eyes onto me, "You knew the guy who tried to legalize pot?!" I didn't really want to 'chat' with two seventeen year olds, so I turned back in my seat and stared out the window.

_L Lawliet…so that __**was**__ you._

For the next three hours, I caught bits and pieces of their conversation.

"--I doubt that guy really knew him! _We_ had to get special permission to go to a flipping _book signing_!"

"--But he had a picture of Lawliet and Lawliet's kid Near." I heard the girl (Kim?) sputter.

"Yeah right! It's probably from a newspaper, or a fake! You are such a dunce, Kyle."

_Hmm…Kyle and Kim_, I mused tiredly, all the while staring out the window.

Once again, 710 Ashbury. Once again, I stood outside of the old, white Victorian door. No sounds came from the apartment; my hands clenched and unclenched inside the pockets of an old jacket of my father's. Nervousness gnawed at the inside of my stomach. My watch beeped at 8, the time I usually woke up at, and caused me to jump slightly at the noise.

My fingers reached out attentively and brushed across the brass know. The boy, Kyle's words flashed across my memory. _'He had a picture of Lawliet, and Lawliet's kid Near.'_

I gripped the cool metal, a soft smile coming to my mouth. _Did you find a girl, L? Now are you happy doing something so 'great' that even seventeen year-olds say you're the best thing to happen since sliced bread? _I opened the door, and lingered in the apartment's doorway. _I still love you though, you strange bastard._

One foot gingerly stepped onto the threshold of the old living room, and a wave of calm settled over my body.

The old green couch where Jerry had gotten me high for the first time, and where L and I had spent most of our nights still sat in its rightful place pushed over by the set of three window seats. I noticed with slight agitation that the green carpet had been replaced by wooden floor-boards. No large sheets of paper hung from the walls, but the tell-tale smudges of purple still lingered on the white walls.

The living room was empty save for the couch. I sighed and walked across the loud floor. I plopped down on the couch, much as I had done after I had gone on my walks through the Haight-Ashbury. Something bumped against my arm and leg.

I looked down at the cushions, and with wide eyes picked up the manila envelope. _Why had I forgotten this?_

Black, scratchy hand writing was on the stained surface of the envelope, and I realized with slight happiness that it was L's.

_**1990 August 20**_

_**Light--**_

_**I know that someday, you'll return to San Francisco and find this, though I only wish I knew when. **_

_**The year is 1990 **_(Here he drew an arrow to the date he had put on before hand. I chuckled.)_** You and I have accomplished many things in our twenty-two years apart (I noticed that in '69 your article on us 'Damn Dirty Hippies' was published in Time magazine. Congratulations!) **_

_**I have thought about you everyday since our parting in '68, and I **__**Do**__** hope to see you again. I am now residing in London; here, I adopted an orphan named Near. I wish for you to meet him next time we see each other. **_

_**All the best--**_

_**L **_

I stared at the note for two or three seconds before a large, boyish grin over took my face.

I slid one finger under the sealed flap of the envelope and tore it open. Another, smaller note fell our of the manila envelope, only this time I could see that the corners were browned by age.

_**1968 June 30-July 1**_

_**Light--**_

_**I honestly don't think you'll remember this. (You were never one to remember petty things,) But here's to hoping you do!**_

_**--L **_

I raised an eyebrow, and set the small note aside. The manila envelope was heavier than I remembered; I slipped my fingers under the yellowish paper, and felt a hard book cover run across my fingertips.

I pulled out a large book that had folded papers in its pages. I took out two loose papers from the front cover and glanced at the book's front cover. "_Common Sense"_; I rolled my eyes. Like L had any of that in his entire body.

I opened one of the folded papers, and my eyes landed onto a rough sketch. It was Jerry playing a banjo, an ever present smile on his scruffy face. The lines were as if someone had held the pencil between only two fingers, but I could tell it was my old land-lord/friend. My heart fell slightly, remembering that Jerry's health was becoming worse.

I opened another of the folded papers and aloud bark of laughter filled the empty room. It was obvious L had been working on expressions. It was a sketch of L (who I assumed) had been looking into the bathroom mirror. One of his owlish eyes was squeezed shut, and his tongue was stuck out like he was grimacing.

The loose papers were mostly still life sketches, but I found a few of me. I traced the outline of one sketch, feeling the twenty-five year old graphite smudge under my finger.

I decided to open the book, and a few more note-book papers fell out. I looked over the black scratchy hand writing I knew to be L's.

_**--To some, Cannabis is the classic "Gateway Drug." To others, it is a harmless way to relax, or provide relief from crippling pain. Some fear it is a dangerous drug with addictive properties; to others still it is a legal anomaly and should be decriminalized. Whatever the viewpoint, and by whatever name it is know, cannabis--or marijuana, hashish, dope, pot, weed, grass, ganja--incites debate at every level, and the effect it has on the cultures and economics of every corner of the globe is undeniable." **_

I shook my head and thought _So this is what you were working on? _I began to laugh, "Oh L…" I wasn't surprised when tears began to blot the twenty-five year old paper. "Shit." I sniffed and wiped at my eyes.

My head whipped around as the door to the apartment creaked open. "--And this is our cheapest apartment, but it's very spacious and--" The realtor stopped dissentiences. My eyes were wide as I got off the couch, clutching the "_Common Sense_" book to my chest.

"I'm sorry," I murmured lowly. The realtor (a 60 something year old bat who's mouth had tinned to an unimaginable degree) gave me the evil eye. I began walking to the door, muttering apologies. "I used to live here when I was younger. Sorry…"

An hour later, I laid on "Hippie Hill"; my arms were being used as a pillow. The heavy book rested on my chest. I watched as the clouds drifted by like big, puffy sheep…

I sighed and closed my eyes; soon I fell asleep.

Pain exploded on the right side of my head, causing me to snap up and yelp in surprise. "What the hell?!" I growled.

"Ah! Sorry Mister!" I cracked open an eye to glare at a long haired youth who grabbed his red Frisbee and ran off.

I squeezed my shut, trying to rub away the (now throbbing) pain. "I can't tell you how many times that's happened to me…" A low, softly accented voice said from above me. I didn't feel like opening my eyes.

"God…those things should be illegal." I growled, rubbing the painful spot.

The low voice chuckled, "That just makes it even better, Light."

My eyes snapped open. _It couldn't be_. I lifted my gaze to the owner of the voice. A shaky breath left my lips. "L?"

He stood above me, a tiny smile played at the corners of his pale pink lips. L really hadn't changed, except for light stress lines at the corners of his owlish eyes. His raven hair still stood out in every direction; L stood hunched as ever, hands in the pockets of a dark coat.

"How are you Light?" I noticed that his voice had the faintest breath of a British accent, and I couldn't help but think it suited him.

L sat down next to me, and I could see slight concern in his onyx eyes. I was still surprised at actually being able to talk to him again. "…Are you okay, Light? The Frisbee didn't hit you too hard, did it?" I blinked as he lifted a hand and placed a cool finger-tip to my eye. It was as if we had never been apart.

We must have looked odd; two grown men sitting on the ground, and talking as if we were a married couple. I didn't care. I took L's face in between my hands and kissed him. _God how I've missed you._

My mind spun slightly as we kissed, my tongue rolled over his, causing my stomach to tighten with happiness. We broke apart, L breathed in silent laughter. "I certainly missed that." He smiled and stood up. I looked up at him, a frown forming at the corners of my mouth.

"Are you leaving?" I asked, not hiding the disappointment that had crawled into my voice and expression.

L rolled his black eyes and held out a hand to help me off the ground. People had been giving us looks of "Aww…how cute. How long have they been apart?" Some of the older tourists (mostly Midwestern couples, I suspected) gave us odd looks after we had broken apart from our kiss. I didn't care, all I really cared about was that, after being apart for so long, I was walking, hand in hand with L.

"Where are we going?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him. L glanced at me and flashed me a non-smile.

"I want you to meet Near…I trust you found the manila envelope?" I nodded.

"Did you know they're selling the old apartment?" We turned to a small café; L raised an eyebrow in my direction.

"They're selling it? That's sad."

L walked up to a table where a small white haired boy and an old man sat. The old man looked from L to me, a grey eyebrow raised in question before he nodded. L turned to the boy and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Near…I'd like you to meet Light."

The little boy turned around in his chair, his ice-blue eyes were skeptical but he gave me a curt nod of acknowledgement, and then turned back in his chair.

--

"I want you to go back to London with me." L and I were walking around the changed Haight-Ashbury after the old man (Quillish Wammy) had taken Near back to their hotel room.

I looked quickly at him, my eyebrows knit in slight confusion. _Had I heard him right?_ "What?" I asked.

L sighed, "I want you to come with Near and I back to London. We'll be returning in one week."

I remained silent and stared at the ground. Emotions swelled close to bursting around in my head. Giddiness, confusion, excitement…

"Why?"

I swore I heard L sigh again in irritation. I mentally gave myself a pat on the back for that one. "Because I want to be with you. Because I've thought about you for the past twenty-five years. Because Light," He turned to me and rolled his eyes. His voice held a note of finality. "I fucking love you."

-

-

**FINIS**

_Ahh, finally done! I'm kinda sad to see this end, but hey --shrugs--what can ya do? _

_--Laughs-- So L uses Light's confession of love to get Light to come with him to London. Please review to tell me how I did. If you think it sucks eggs, be gentle. _

_Also, if you feel like it, drop a plot by. Maybe I'll use it! --wiggles eyebrows--Eh? _


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